


linchpin

by Bundibird



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Actually theres one character who stays dead and I'm sorry), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Avengers Endgame Spoilers, But other than that one person everyone lives, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Endgame AU, Endgame Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Gen, Irondad, Tony Saves The Day, because he's Tony freakin Stark that's why, no for real only read this if you've seen endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 10:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18618529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bundibird/pseuds/Bundibird
Summary: One tiny thing changes… and as a result, everything changes.[Or: “Nebula – the network you run on,” Tony says, gesturing to the panel on the side of her head. “Any chance it would, say, resonate with its twin, or anything similar, if two versions of it were suddenly inhabiting the same spot in the timeline?”][Or: The Endgame-fixit we all need]





	linchpin

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Корень всех зол](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477043) by [Cis_moll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cis_moll/pseuds/Cis_moll)



> The alternate title to this is: Fuck Endgame. The Russos’ really think I’m gonna live in a world without Tony Stark?? They can think the hell again. Cause that ain't happening. Watch me jump all aboard the denial train and press on full steam ahead. 
> 
> (Also, this is more slap-dash than my usual style. I just needed to fix what happened so I bashed this out super quick.)

Everything is ready to go.

 

Tony has the message recorded for Morgan and Pepper, though he hopes they never have to see it; the team has all got their new Quantum Suits (which hurt Tony’s eyes to look at, because they’re an absolute fashion _offence,_ but he’d been busy building the portal, and hadn’t known about the suits’ ghastly design until it was too late); and the whole motley crew are all making their way from various spots in the compound towards the Quantum Portal (that Steve won’t stop calling a Time Machine, because it amuses the guy to see how it makes Scott’s face twitch), ready for their scheduled 14:30 departure time, all of them buzzing with pent up anticipation.

 

It’s when Nebula walks in and the light glints off the golden panel on her head that it occurs to Tony.

 

“Nebula,” he calls, and she glances up at him and changes her trajectory so she strides over to him instead of the steps to the platform she had been heading for.

 

“What is it,” she asks in that inflectionless, borderline-angry voice she has.

 

“The network you run on,” Tony says, getting straight to it and gesturing to the gold-coloured panel on the side of her skull that covers her internal wiring. “Is there any chance it would, say… resonate with its twin, or anything similar, if two versions of it were suddenly inhabiting the same spot in the timeline?”

 

He doesn’t know much about the changes Thanos made to her over the years, but he knows enough to know that she’s more like FRIDAY or Vision in terms of functionality, and he doesn’t know why this didn’t occur to him earlier as a potential problem.

 

Nebula stares at him, and under her hard expression, she looks startled and wary. Looks like she hasn’t thought of it either. Nearby, in hearing, Bruce looks up in confused alarm at Tony’s words.

 

“I… am not sure,” she answers, sounding as close to hesitant as Nebula ever gets.

 

“Tony, what are you talking about?” Bruce asks, abandoning his last-minute equipment checks and coming over.

 

Tony slants a glance at Nebula, who nods.

 

“Nebula’s internal system – both physical and mental – is more similar to Vision’s than to yours or mine,” Tony explains, keeping it as simple as possible, and Bruce looks at her with wide eyes. “Less like synapses and more like code. If she goes back with the same system, unchanged and unshielded, while other-Nebula is there as well – ”

 

“The systems could ping off each other,” Bruce finishes, serious, and Tony nods.

 

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks, making his way over after having noticed the cluster of them talking seriously. 

 

“We got a bit of a problem, Cap,” Tony explains, and briefly lays out Nebula’s specific type of functionality and the potential problems that presents. 

 

Steve frowns, the furrow between his brows saying he doesn't get it. 

 

"Why would the codes do that?" he asks, not even questioning the fact that Nebula is more like an android than a human. Guess after spending five years working with a talking raccoon, everything loses its novelty.

 

“If all goes to plan, they won't be anywhere near each other,” Steve continues. “There won’t be any contact between the two systems." 

 

“Uh, ok, two things," Tony says. "One – all due respect, but I'm not comfortable with leaving things to 'if all goes to plan.' And two – it doesn't matter if they're near each other or not. This isn't like having two regular humans on different sides of the planet. Computer code – _alien_ computer code in particular, some of which is years ahead of even _my_ tech, by the way – is more advanced than our measly little human brains. If the systems are within reach of each other, they'll notice each other. I have no idea how far Nebula's reach goes, but I’d be willing to bet it’s pretty damn far.”  

 

"And what happens if they notice each other?" Steve asks, and the others are all making their way over now, drawn by sound and tone of their voices. 

 

Tony figures the easiest way to answer that is to call in someone with more expertise.

 

“FRIDAY, what would happen if a code identical to your own suddenly materialised somewhere in the world right now?”

 

“I can’t say for sure Boss, but I would definitely notice it within seconds,” she responds. “As to what would happen then, I don’t know. It’s probable that the other code and I would be able to access data from each other, or it’s possible that we would either tangle, or merge entirely.”

 

Tony looks at Nebula, who looks concerned underneath her deliberately blank expression.

 

“None of those would be good,” she says, and Tony tips his head in agreement.

 

“I think I can fix it, though,” he says, and Nebula’s gaze is unblinking on him.

 

“Do it,” she says, without hesitation, and Tony nods.

 

“Change of plan, gang,” he announces to the team. “Our grand time travel adventure is gonna have to be delayed for a bit.”

 

Predictably, there’s a series of protests from the gathered Avengers.

 

“Tony, we’re all set and ready to go – how likely is it that this is even going to be a problem?” Steve asks, and Tony levels an uncompromising expression at him.

 

“It could be nothing,” he concedes. “It could be that I’m entirely wrong and their systems wouldn’t notice each other even if past- and present-Nebula were holding hands. Or it could be catastrophic.”

 

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Natasha asks, and Tony raises an eyebrow at her.

 

“Maybe because I was busy inventing a _literal_ time machine, and the fact that past-Nebula might synch with our-Nebula only occurred to me five minutes ago?”

 

Nat tilts her head in concession of the point, but Steve still looks like he’s wondering whether they should all push on with the plan anyway – looks like he’s not convinced that they should wait.

 

“Steve,” Tony says seriously. To be fair, he understands the impatience and frustration. The machine is ready to go, the quantum-GPS bracelets are all tuned, and their _families_ are still nothing more than _dust motes_ drifting through the air, but they have one shot at this. Sure, Tony wishes he’d thought of this yesterday, so they’d be cleared to go today, but he didn’t, so they aren’t.

 

“If we get there, and past-Nebula – who’s still very devoted to her evil and abusive adoptive-father, by the way – notices that someone is sharing her network, then we’re screwed,” he says. “Either he does something to stop us then or he plans for this future and he stops us that way, somehow. We’ve only got enough Particles to get in, get the stones, and get out. If we fuck this up, if he finds out what we’re doing, then we’re sunk. There’s no third chance here, Cap. This is _it.”_

 

Cap purses his lips, looking displeased… but also like he knows that Tony is right.

 

“I want them all back as much as anyone here, Steve,” Tony says, thinking of Peter. Thinking of the brother that Morgan hasn’t gotten to meet yet. “But they’ve waited five years. They can wait another few hours, if it means that we do this _right_.”

 

……………………..……………………..

 

Ultimately, Tony gets his way, and he spends the rest of that day delving into Nebula’s internal wiring and the system she runs on, changing what he can and shielding what he can so that she’s protected from the risk of her past-self’s own code merging with hers.

 

What he sees under the panels on her skull are enough to make him wish that Thanos was still alive, just so that Tony could kill him.

 

He refrains from telling Nebula how much he wants to kill the ~~monster~~ man who raised her, but at a particularly cruelly done piece of work that would have hurt like hell when it happened, he does grit his teeth and say, “Your adoptive father was an _asshole.”_

 

“He was,” Nebula agrees, emotionless. “But he is dead now. And I am still alive, and we are all about to undo his life’s work.”

 

“We sure as hell are,” Tony mutters, and goes back to work.

 

He gets it done a few hours later, and Steve announces that they’ll all get an early night and regroup by the Time Machine –

 

(“It’s not a _time machine,”_ Scott moans under his breath, and Nat smirks into her mug of tea while Steve’s lips twitch and Rocket cackles in amusement)

 

– in time for an oh-nine-hundred departure in the morning, and they all head off in separate directions.

 

It’s early enough still, so Tony calls Pepper and Morgan, and Morgan convinces him to read her a bedtime story over the phone, and by the time he’s done, his little girl is sound asleep with her face mashed into her pillow, and Pepper is smiling warmly at Tony’s hologram.

 

“I love you,” she whispers, so as not to disturb Morgan.

 

“I love you three-thousand,” Tony replies, looking at the two of them curled up on Morgan’s bed, and he means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his whole life.

 

The next day, they assemble by the Time Machine (“We _know_ , Scott,” Rhodey interrupts), and they stand in a circle and Steve says a little speech that is actually pretty damn inspiring, Rocket makes a smartass quip, and they all blast themselves back in time.

 

It… doesn’t go _entirely_ to plan.

 

Steve and Tony have to make an extra stop back in the 50s to a certain army base, and though they get out of there with everything they need – with additional Pym Particles, even – but it’s still hair-raising, flying by the seat of their pants like this and, you know, _running into his own father_. They get the job done, but yeah, it wasn’t as smooth as they were hoping.

 

And they lose Nat.

 

Tony feels like they should have predicted that, in hindsight – given what they knew about Gamora and what Thanos did to her to get the Stone, they shouldn’t have been so surprised that it took the same level of sacrifice to get the Soul Stone again.

 

He _is_ surprised at the level of grief he feels for her though. He hadn’t thought he’d still cared about her as much as he clearly does. Did. Oh, wow, the past tense hurts.

 

He cared for her as a colleague, yes, and obviously he wanted her to survive – wanted everyone to survive. But he’d thought that whatever feelings of friendship he’d had for her had died when she turned on him back during their stupid fight over the Accords. They could work together, but they were never going to be friends again.

 

 _Clearly_ , he thinks, as he wrestles with the grief in his chest while Clint stands there looking like he’s desperately trying not to shatter, _I was wrong._

 

They move forward because they have to, and because it’s what Nat would have wanted, and because it’s the only way to make sure her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. The Iron Gauntlet had been prepared before they left, and as the Stones are being set carefully into it, they all swap their time travel tales with each other, voices muted in deference to their missing colleague.

 

Thor’d had a nice chat with his mother – and never mind that it broke the rules of time travel, apparently – and Rocket says he had a run in with some palace guards, but otherwise their journey had been fairly straightforward. Clint barely gives details of his and Nat’s journey – just explains that the Stone required a sacrifice, and that they fought, and she won. After he says that, he clams up and doesn’t say anything further, jaw clenched and grief writ all over his face.

 

Steve tells how he, Tony and Scott managed to get the Sceptre, and Tony has a chuckle at the _Hail Hydra_ part of the tale. There’s some concern over the fact that Loki got away with the Tesseract, but they’ll debate what that means and what the ramifications are later – after they’ve gotten everyone back. Tony skims over the details of his and Steve’s second foray deeper into the past; just tells that they needed the Tesseract and they needed more Particles, and there was only one point in time where he knew for sure the two things were in the same location. He’d gone for the Tesseract, he says, Steve had gone for the Particles, and they were both successful, yay.

 

He doesn’t bother mentioning his run in with Howard. It’s not necessary to the tale, and it feels too personal anyway.

 

Bruce details his conversation-slash-argument with the Sorceress Supreme. They all agree that it’s a good sign that she thinks Stephen gave up the Time Stone to Thanos willingly. One version, they win, the wizard had said. Just one. If the bald magic lady who gave Strange his job thinks he made the right call with the Stone, then they must be on the right path, Tony figures.

 

Rhodey tells his and Nebula’s tale last, and from the sounds of it, they had the most straight forward experience out of everyone. They arrived, Nebula put the coordinates to Vormir into the ship for Nat and Clint, and then they hid behind a rock and waited until a singing and dancing idiot arrived on the scene. Knocked him out cold, stole his lock-pick, stole the Power Stone, and came back home.

 

“And there wasn’t any problem with other-Nebula?” Tony asks, because he’s 97% sure that his edits to Nebula’s system would have worked, but he’s not going to settle until he knows for sure. If other-Nebula caught even a _glimpse_ of what they were doing, and passed it on to Thanos, then he could have put any number of failsafes in place that they’re yet to discover.

 

“I do not believe so,” she replies. “I sensed nothing from her, and I felt nothing.”

 

“Well. That’s as promising as it gets, I guess,” Tony says, and then gestures to the completed Gauntlet. “Ok. This badass baby is ready to go. Let’s bring our families back.”

 

There’s a brief argument about who should be the one to wield it, but ultimately, Bruce wins, and he dons the jewel-studded glove.

 

It’s a very dramatic few moments, but in the end, Bruce manages to snap his fingers, and then they all stand there in the sudden silence, waiting breathlessly for a hint that something’s changed.

 

Tony’s just realised that of course they’re not going to be able to tell if everyone’s back from the _compound –_ no one was in the building when the original attack happened, so unless every returned person was going to reappear all in one place ( _that_ would be uncomfortable, given that it was a universe-wide cull), then the likelihood is that everyone is going to come back to the spot they were when it happened – and he’s just about to open his mouth and say this, when Clint’s phone rings.

 

They all snap around to look at it, and he picks it up with shaking hands and asks, “Laura?” and then there’s a feminine voice sounding from the other end, and Clint’s knees buckle in relief.

 

“We did it,” Steve says, wondrous, as Clint sobs into his phone and Scott staggers out into the hallway in a relieved daze.

 

“Ok, big guy,” Tony says to Bruce, heading over to where the giant man is still sitting half-collapsed on the floor. “Let’s get you to medical and get that arm checked out.”

 

Rhodey, still in the War Machine suit, steps forward to help, and between the two of them and Bruce’s undamaged arm, they manage to get him back to standing. Steve steps in and takes Tony’s place, which he appreciates, because Bruce-Hulk is a heavy dude and Tony doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold that weight up if Bruce wobbles.

 

“What about – ” Bruce starts, before hissing in pain at his smoking arm. Now that he's not holding him up, Tony reaches for the cooling gel they had on hand (Rhodey had described what Thanos' arm looked like before Thor cut his head off, so they'd been prepared) and starts spraying it liberally onto Bruce's arm. The man sags with relief and then finishes his question. “What about – everyone? Don’t you wanna talk to them? Can you call them?”

 

“My people are in Wakanda, and I doubt their comms units reach all the way to America from there,” Steve answers with an easy smile that makes him look years younger. “They’ll get in touch with us sooner than I’d be able to find them.”

 

“My person is on another planet,” Tony adds. “I’m guessing Strange will get them home using his weird magic circles, but I figure it will take him more than a few seconds to–”

 

Which is when a golden portal opens up right in front of them.

 

“Making weird golden circles doesn’t actually take terribly much time,” Strange says from the centre of the circle, smirking at all the gaping faces in front of him.

 

“Quill!” Rocket yells, darting forward to greet some of the people emerging from behind Strange, and then –

 

“Mr Stark!” Peter calls happily, bounding through the portal like he’s full of beans and fully rested and like he hasn’t been a literal pile of dust for the last five years.

 

“Mr Stark!” the kid is yelling, bouncing right up in front of Tony with his wide eager eyes and a bright smile on his face, and Tony can only stare. “You won’t _believe_ what’s been happening – you know how we chased that spaceship out to space, and we went to that planet, and then we fought that guy but then he vanished and then I went all dusty? Well we all just woke up, it was like we’d all been asleep, only you were gone, and I was like _where’s Mr Stark?_ but the wizard was all like _wow he actually did it_ and then he was like _we gotta go_ but then Quill was freaking out cause his ship was gone and he was like _who stole my ship?_ And the wizard was all _come over here I’ll take you home_ and then he did the golden portal thingy he does all the time and now we’re here – where’s the purple guy, did he get away? Do we have to go after him?”

 

“No, he – he’s dead,” Tony says after a second, hoarse, and thinking wildly that Peter’s voice is the best thing he’s heard since the first time he ever heard Morgan say _Dada_.

 

“Oh, good,” Peter says, sagging in relief. “Cause he was, like, _not_ an easy guy to fight and if we had to do it again, I’d be totally up for it! But also I’d rather not, you know, if _not_ fighting him again is an option, cause like – the Vulture was bad, but that guy was _so_ much worse, you know? Hey – is your hair grey? It wasn’t grey yesterday.”

 

And then Tony’s laughing (and maybe crying a little bit), and he’s reaching for the kid and hugging him, and he’s so much bigger than Morgan is, but the feeling in Tony’s chest is the same as it was a year and a half ago when Morgan had her first real fever that lasted for over two days before it finally broke at 4am, and Tony had gone boneless with relief and had folded himself over her comfortably-sleeping tiny little body and had just _breathed._

He does the same thing now – wraps his arms around Peter and pulls him close and sags a little bit in relief and just tucks his chin over the kid’s shoulder and _breathes,_ and Peter goes still in surprise and then says, “Oh. Are we there now?”

 

Tony laughs wetly and goes, “I think we were there a while ago, kid.”

 

“Oh,” Peter says, and melts into the hug, bringing his own arms up to circle around Tony as he tucks his nose into Tony’s shoulder. “Ok then.”

 

Tony savours the embrace for a long moment before he pulls back, Peter following his lead, and then they spend a moment inspecting each other. Around them, Rocket is introducing Steve and Bruce to the Guardians; Thor is greeting Drax warmly, Nebula is grasping Quill’s forearm, grief in her eyes for her lost sister even as she stiffly welcomes her fellow Guardians; Scott is on the phone to someone out in the hallway; Clint is still speaking to Laura, tears on his face and in his voice; and Rhodey is introducing himself to Strange; but Tony keeps his hands on Peter’s shoulders and runs his eyes critically over the kid.

 

The red marks on Pete’s face are still as fresh as if they’d happened only minutes ago, and Tony knows they’ll develop into bruises within a few hours before fading away to nothing by this time tomorrow. There don’t appear to be any serious wounds – just a lot of developing bruises and more than a few scrapes. Kid looks exactly the same as he did in the moments before he got turned into dust, and it settles something worried in Tony’s chest that by all appearances, the kid isn’t any worse for wear. 

 

“Mr Stark? Tony? It – it hasn’t just been a few minutes, has it?” Peter asks, and he's been inspecting Tony just as thoroughly, and is no doubt noticing the silver hair that Tony hasn’t dyed since before he went to space, and the new wrinkles that have formed around his mouth and in the corners of his eyes, and he’s probably even noticing the lab around them that looks starkly different than the last time Peter was standing in it.

 

“No,” Tony responds. “It’s, uh. Been a little bit longer than that. Five years, in fact.”

 

The kid’s face goes slack with horror at that, and Tony barrels on before the kid can even ask.

 

“May should be fine,” he assures. “She got turned to dust, like you, but given the fact that you’re standing here and Quill and his merry band of idiots are all back in one piece, and Clint hasn’t stopped crying over the phone to Laura since she called, I’m guessing that May’s back as well.”

 

“O-ok,” Pete says, still looking a little wide eyed but a little less panicked now. “Um – can we, can I call – ”

 

“Absolutely,” Tony says, and passes his own phone over.

 

Peter takes it but doesn’t go anywhere, staying close to Tony as he dials a number and holds it up to his ear.

 

“Stark,” Strange says, striding over, and his face is a mixture of smug and impressed.

 

(“May! May, hi, it’s me,” Peter says into the phone.)

 

“Strange,” Tony greets, and holds out his hand to shake Stephen’s. “Glad to see you back in one piece. Literally.”

 

(“I’m fine – I, no, May, I’m _fine,_ I promise.”)

 

The smug/impressed smirk on Strange’s face deepens.

 

“I can’t believe you did it,” he says, and tilts his head. “Well done.”

 

(“I’m with Mr Stark – this is his phone. We’re ok, I swear.”)

 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t do it alone,” Tony deflects.

 

(“I didn’t _mean_ to go to space, I – yeah, it was an accident, it kind of just happened, and then once we were up there we couldn’t come back yet –”)

 

“No,” Strange agrees. “But you were the key element.”

 

(“Yeah, we’re back – we just got back. Or – I did, at least – ”)

 

“Right,” Tony says, uncomfortable. That’s… a lot of pressure that he’d rather not think about, to be honest.

 

(“Yeah, I _promise,_ May, I’m _fine.”)_  

 

“It’s true,” Strange says. “You were the only one capable of building the machine successfully, and you were the only one who could have prevented the Nebula’s from glitching and catching visions of the others’ memories.”

 

(“Yeah, I know.”)

 

Tony looks up sharply at Strange.

 

“So they _would_ have merged?” he asks, and he’s aware of Nebula overhearing their conversation and coming closer.

 

(“I know, May, I’m really sorry.”)

 

“Not _merged,_ exactly,” Strange clarifies. “Their systems would have semi-synched with one another. Thanos would have become aware of it and mined the cloned memories for information. The results would have been… catastrophic.”

 

(“I love you too, May.”)

 

Nebula and Tony trade a glance.

 

“Well, glad we nipped that in the bud before it bit us in the ass,” Tony says bracingly, and Nebula nods seriously.

 

(“Ok, yeah – I gotta go, May, but I’ll see you soon, ok? Yeah, I promise. I do, I swear. Love you.”)

 

“You did well,” Strange says, as Pete finishes up his phone call. “Against all the odds.”

 

“Fourteen million to one, right?” Tony asks, deliberately glib in order to hide his discomfort at how slim their chances truly had been.

 

Strange smirks.

 

“Something like that,” he says.

 

“Hey, so uh, sorry for interrupting, but May is like, _freaking out,”_ Peter says, and Strange glances at him with amusement and drifts away to introduce himself to Steve and Bruce. Nebula leaves too, heading over to where Rocket has commandeered one of the computers and is trying to get through to Wakanda so he can find his tree kid.

 

“Yeah, not surprising,” Tony says, because, well – the kid _had_ vanished into space for a bunch of days before Thanos invaded. Tony would be freaking out too, if he were May. “FRIDAY, trace the last call and send a jet to go pick up May. That’ll be the fastest way of getting her here – the roads are gonna be hell. Give her a call and let her know you’re coming.”

 

“Sure thing, Boss,” FRIDAY says immediately.

 

“Thank you, Mr Stark – ”

 

“Mr Stark?” Tony echoes. “You called me Tony literally three minutes ago. Don’t think I didn’t notice, I’ve been trying to break your Mr Stark habit for ages. That was a breakthrough moment, kid, don’t go backwards on me now.”

 

“Sorry Mr – Tony. Um. Thanks. She’s – yeah, she was really freaking out. Um. Also, I’m kind of… grounded now? For the rest of my life, apparently.”

 

Tony laughs, and claps a hand on the kid’s shoulder and draws him in sideways. Peter leans into him easily.

 

“You know what, that’s totally fair,” he says. “I wonder if I can convince her to let you serve your grounding at mine and Pepper’s place, though. It’s great, you’ll love it. Loads of open space, plenty of tall trees, and a spare room each for you and May. There’s no sleep ins, though, that’s the only downside. Morgan’s an early riser, and she’s gonna be super excited to meet you, so you’re gonna be her main focus for a while. Sorry in advance.”

 

Peter’s face crinkles in confusion.

 

“Morgan?” he asks.

 

“Yeah,” Tony says, and grins at him. “My daughter. You’ll love her, she’s great. She’s a terror, but she’s great. She’s just like Pepper, I swear. Also she kind of thinks you’re her brother, so be prepared for that.”

 

“Your _daughter?”_ Peter echoes, shocked. And then “Wait – _brother?”_

 

“She wanted to know who the boy in the picture was,” Tony explains, keeping his voice deliberately cavalier and not looking at Peter. “So I told her about you.”

 

“You told her I’m her brother?” Peter asks, sounding flabbergasted, and Tony goes still for a heartbeat at the tone, and then takes his arm off the kid’s shoulder and draws away a little, ruthlessly squashing the irrational hurt. It’s not like Peter’s actually his kid, after all. He has exactly zero claim to him, and based on Pete's reaction, Tony’s clearly made an error with the whole brother thing.

 

“Pepper gave the impression and I just didn’t correct her,” Tony says casually, and it’s true. It’s just that Pepper said something to _Tony_ , one day when Tony was having a not great day, about how now that they had Morgan, she knew how Tony felt about losing Peter.

 

And Morgan had overheard it, and she’d asked that night as Tony tucked her in, “Was Peter my brother?” and Tony’s throat had closed over and he hadn’t been able to answer, and Morgan had nodded sadly and said, “I thought so,” and that was that.

 

And it’s not like it did any harm, Tony had told himself. Morgan loved hearing about Peter, and it gave Tony an excuse to tell someone about the kid – to make sure that someone other than just himself remembered Peter. And it helped, too; with each story he’d tell Morgan about Spiderman, Tony would be able to say Peter’s name just a little bit more easily.

 

“I can set her straight though, it’s no problem,” Tony says now, not looking at the kid in question. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anythi– ”

 

Peter cuts him off by throwing his arms around Tony’s chest and trying to cut off oxygen-flow, because the kid is like an octopus when he hugs people, apparently.

 

“I always wanted a sister,” Peter says, and when Tony glances down at him, he’s beaming happily, and Tony’s lips twitch upwards in response, and he drops his arm back around the kid’s shoulders.

 

“You might change your mind on that front once she’s jumping on your bed at four am so you can go watch the birds wake up,” he says, and Peter grins even more brightly.

 

“I doubt it, but we’ll see,” he says, and Tony looks from him to the room full of reunited people – to Strange where he’s making another Portal and Wilson and Barnes are stepping though and Steve is embracing them both enthusiastically, tears on his cheeks, and Rocket’s tree is peering through the portal curiously and the racoon is yelling in a hoarse voice and throwing himself at his teenaged son, and Scott’s laugh-crying with someone on the phone in the corridor and Thor is greeting T’Challa and Drax is poking curiously at an abandoned hologram.  

 

“Yeah,” he agrees, and Strange is opening a new portal and sending Bruce through to the Med Bay, and Rhodey is embracing Wilson across the room, and Clint’s talking to his youngest son now, and Peter is warm under Tony’s arm, and he feels ok for the first time in five years. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

 

………………………………………………..

**Author's Note:**

> I recognise that the council has made a decision, but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision, I’ve elected to ignore it. Tony Stark lives, damn it, and he gets his happy fucking ending on his farm with his wife and his daughter and his adopted sons Peter and Harley, and he gets to be happy, damn it.


End file.
